Friday, July 24, 2009

Well, it has been a couple of months, but I have finally made it back to the gym.

*sound the chorus* or *pats self on the back*

My lack of gym time was part of the whole post wedding blues that I wrote about in a previous post. I had already determined I have moved on and have gotten back in my saddle again. (Okay, not fully, but at least I’ve got a toe in the stirrup.)

On this particular sunny day in Bekah World, I fought with the alarm, and even Craig for that matter, before dragging my oh-so-sleepy limbs out of my deep and peaceful slumber. Somehow I managed to sleepwalk my way into my baby blue gym pants paired with my hot pink t-shirt. Sneaks were on and tied and I was out the door to the sound of Craig’s praises.

Life was good and I was being a good kid.

After a vigorous two hour work out — weights, cardio, abs — cheeks flushed, blood pumping, full of energy, I was ready to tackle the day!

As I was preparing to leave, I had a “stop ‘n’ chat” about a new fitness regime with the lady who runs our classes. Another lady who seemed to be lurking around looked at me, and with the sweetest smile and most sincere tone in her voice said, “Aw, angel, with a pretty face like that, I’d get skinny.”

At that, I gave her what-for and punched her in the face.

Okay, not quite.

Turns out my brain didn’t even register her words at first. Instead, I felt myself go into shutdown mode. You know the feeling, when you imagine the floor swallowing you up as you escape with out a trace. I was wondering what was happening to me as I swallowed the huge lump that had formed in my throat, when it finally began to make sense in my brain.

Pretty...

Skinny...

Opposite of skinny...

Fat?

FAT!

These words floated across my mind’s eye as I tried to contain myself. The anger didn’t even hit me until I was speeding down Lehigh Street, relaying my encounter on my girls’ voicemails.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

I have always been a “mover.” Life has always had me in a different place every few years. We moved around a lot when I was a kid. It’s part of what has molded me, and yet, I have never felt settled or rooted anywhere.

Take having friends for example. Moving so often, I have always been able to adapt to new situations and to meet new people. Being friendly and outgoing are easy for me, but at the same time I struggle on the inside with acceptance. “Will she like me? Will she want to be my friend?” These are very common thoughts in my head.

When I bond with another person, it’s a true connection and I do my best to nurture the relationship. But then life gets in the way and I am on to my next destination. Few friendships have lasted but those that have are my “girls” — the ones I call upon when I need them. Even if we have not spoken for a while, we are back to “us” as soon as one of us picks up the phone, and I absolutely love them for that.

As we were planning the big move into our home last week, with everything unsettled, I had started to flounder. I was looking to everyone and everywhere for that sense of approval and acceptance. I was looking so far out that I had bypassed the central support system of my husband, my “girls” and my mom. I ended up feeling empty-handed, lonely and left out. Once I realized I wasn’t going to find acceptance, sympathy and encouragement anywhere else, I also realized that it’s not about quantity with friendships, but that quality is where the richness lies. Even more so, my focus needs to be on the only person I can really control — myself.

As Earl Woods would say to his son, Tiger when he would falter on his game, “Just bring it back to the basics.”